


The Family Business

by AnotherWriterWhoWrites



Series: 2020 366 Days of Writing [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, Dean Winchester Loves Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Eventual Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, F/M, Gen, Good Parents John Winchester and Mary Winchester, John Winchester & Mary Winchester Live, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective John Winchester, Protective Mary Winchester, Sam Winchester Loves Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23168122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWriterWhoWrites/pseuds/AnotherWriterWhoWrites
Summary: Sam had tried to live the normal life, away from his families dealings and business. But once his girlfriend had been burned to death by a rival mob he has no other choice but to return to the family he had tried to leave and understand a few things. There is no place like home. His family will always have his back. He can't outrun his past. And his brother is his only real partner. Mafia!Au.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Series: 2020 366 Days of Writing [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590919
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

The flames were still dancing, he could feel the warmth on his face as someone wrapped a blanket around his shoulders tightly. He didn’t move, he didn’t look up from the ground, but he did move to grip the blanket tighter around him. 

Dimly he could hear people around him, the whispers and the murmurs, he could hear firemen yelling instructions and he could hear policemen ordering everyone. But overall, he could still hear the roar of the flames as the building he had been in cracked and broke from the inside. 

A shadow appeared in front of him but he still didn’t look up. A hand gripped at his chin roughly and jerked his head up, forcing him to look up at the man. 

According to the badge pinned to his chest he was the chief of police, and according to the disgusted look on his face and eyes he knew who Sam was. 

Or more to the point, he knew who Sam was the son of. 

“You’re coming with us to the station.” the chief told him, momentarily tightening his grip on Sam's chin when Sam didn’t say anything. “We’ve got a lot of questions for you.”

A hand grabbed the chiefs arm and jerked him away from him. Without the grip Sam let his head fall back down, staring at the ground. He could feel someone else kneeling in front of him, tugging the blanket off of him. 

“C’mon kiddo, let's get you outta here.” a familiar voice murmured, hands coming to gently hold his arms and bring him up. Sam let himself be half lifted and guided away. The further away he got, the less of the flames he felt. The arm wrapped around his waist and shoulders, guiding him away from the other people, using the trucks and cars to hide them from the now growing crowd of reporters and their cameras. 

The chief caught up with them, Sam could hear him arguing and all but shouting at them to stop and for Sam to come back with him. The man turned around, keeping one hand on Sam and the other bringing his badge up to show the man wordlessly. He could hear the chief sputtering and spitting something but he stayed back as Sam was guided away and into a familiar car. 

The scent was soothing and helped ground him. He remembered countless nights climbing and curling into the man's side, someone who was welcome into their home for years and years.

Benny Lafitte was a man of legal power, he had a connection in every station and guard and had a rank above them all, giving him the power to do as he wished to crime scenes or to witnesses. 

And he was firmly in the pocket of the Winchester family. Tasked with making sure that if something involved them, he was the first to know and always the first on the scene. 

They drove in silence, neither knew what to say and Sam couldn’t quite remember how to talk. He wasn’t sure how long they drove, he knew they crossed state lines quite a few times but otherwise he had no idea how much time passed. 

But he knew exactly where they were going. 

He didn’t sleep and Benny didn’t stop, he only stopped once for gas and an offer for food that Sam didn’t answer. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they reached a forest and after a bit longer a large gate. He knew that there had been cameras following their every movement from the moment they entered the area and he didn’t move as Benny spoke through the speaker and the gate opened for them. He drove them to the front of the house and there they were, two people waiting for them. 

The door was opened for him but it took one of them to reach in and carefully pull him out to get him to move, his legs shaking as he stumbled out. The arms carefully caught him and brought him up, supporting him. 

“Sammy.” he heard them whisper before hugging him tightly. Immediately he was surrounded by scents that filled his childhood, something comforting to him, something that made him regress almost simultaneously. Lavender, roses, brandy. Leather, whiskey, cigarettes.

Mother. Father. 

He felt his body shake in their grasps, Mary was stroking back his hair, whispering to him things that he couldn’t hear. John was supporting him and after a moment started to lead him into the house, Mary gripping at his hands as they walked their son home. 

“C’mon Sammy, let's get you into your bed.” he could hear Mary tell him, squeezing his hands. “You’re home now, we’ll take care of you.”

It took some time and maneuvering, he couldn’t make his legs work enough to walk on his own, leaning heavily against his dad for support. 

He wasn’t sure how long it took to get him back to his old room, but he had his parents on his sides the entire time, mostly carrying him despite him trying to make his legs to work and support him again. He knew that if it came to it his dad would have no problem to pick him up and carry him, but he also knew that his parents wanted to give him some sort of independence for the time being. 

He could feel himself trembling, curling in on himself a bit more at the whole thing. That despite what had happened, despite what had been said, what had been done, and everything else in between. 

He was still welcomed home. He was still allowed to come back and they’d be here, be here for him. Be here to support him and care for him. 

He tried to choke out an apology, tried to choke out some sort of relief and thanks or something, anything. He could almost feel his parents chuckle at that, squeezing his arms. 

“Don’t worry about any of that right now Sammy.” he heard his dad murmur. “Just time to get some rest for now.”

They finally reached his room and Mary was the one to open the door for them, letting John move in to place him gently onto his bed. He curled into the sheets, burying his face in the pillow as he tried to calm himself down as best as he could. He could feel someone, one of them, take his shoes off for him. 

His blanket was pulled up and tucked in around him, Mary's hand coming up to stroke at his hair. 

“Sleep. We’ll take off things.” she murmured to him. “You’re home now Sammy, you can relax.”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, he could feel Mary press a kiss to the top of his head and John squeeze his arm before they left his room, leaving him to his thoughts in the dark of his room. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, awake in the shadows as he clutched his blankets for some sense of grounding, before his door opened once more. 

He knew immediately who it was as they entered his room, closing the door behind them. They padded across the room, steps muffled by the carpet. The edge of the blanket was lifted enough for them to slide into the bed, Sam barely moved, barely dared to breathe as they settled behind him. 

Arms, familiar and loving arms, encircled him from behind and tightened, holding him close. He could feel his own body mold back into the familiar position, pressed up against the person who had loved him more than anyone else. More than even their parents. 

Even when Sam had ended up hurting him. 

Finally the tears that had been just barely brushing the surface broke free, running hot and heavy down his cheeks. He turned in place so that he could bury his face in his chest, clinging to him as a hand rubbed down his back. 

“Its alright Sammy, it's alright.” his brothers familiar and comforting voice filled him. “It's alright, I got you kiddo. I got you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam wasn’t sure how long he slept, thankfully he didn’t dream but drifted between sleep and being awake. When he woke up he didn’t want to open his eyes just yet, pressing more into the bed. 

He was aware of strong arms around him and he pressed back into both them and his brother's chest. He wasn’t sure if Dean was awake or not but his arms almost automatically seemed to tighten around him in response regardless. 

Despite everything that had happened, at this moment...he felt safe. Content almost. As if he didn’t need to go anywhere else, face what had happened, or anything in between. That he could stay here, cocooned in blankets and warmth and love for the rest of time and not have to deal with anything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. 

But he knew better than anyone else, he didn’t have that luxury, didn’t have that entitlement. And it wasn’t due to lack of money or funds or connections. He had those a plenty and he knew that his parents had all the more. 

No, it was all morality. The ethics of the whole ideal of what he was entitled to and what he deserved and was owed to him. 

Jessica Moore, better person than him by ten-fold didn't have that luxury because it was taken from her in the dead of night with a fire that burned her to death as well as their building. 

She died because of him, he had no doubt about that, there was no other reason for a thing to have happened unless it was his fault. Jessica was a good person who volunteered in her free time and always helped out people and was an all around good person. 

She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve to die like that. 

She didn't deserve it. 

A whimper escaped him and he closed his eyes tightly, clutching the blanket around him. He should’ve been the one to burn, he’s the one with blood on his hands, he should’ve been the one to-

“C’mon Sammy, calm down.”

Sam opened his eyes, turning his head to see his brother staring at him with a look he couldn’t name. Dean reached out for him and Sam moved closer so that he could wrap his arms around him. 

Dean tucked Sam under his chin, rubbing at his back as best as he could. One hand slid up into his hair, massaging his scalp. 

“It’s going to be alright.” Dean murmured to him, holding him close. “It’s all gonna be alright.”

He wasn’t sure how Dean could be so certain about that, nothing about this felt like it would ever be alright again. Whatever he was about to choke out he was stopped as his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything in who knows how long. 

He could feel Deans smile when he said, “You want to get something to eat or you want me to bring it here?”

Going out there meant the possibility of seeing their parents, most likely they’ll want to talk to him. 

And he wasn’t ready to have that conversation with them. He wasn’t ready to face them in the slightest. 

“I’ll get us something.” Dean said, hesitating for a moment before he leaned down and kissed Sam's forehead, getting out of the bed afterwards. 

Sam laid back onto the pillows, taking a deep breath as he reached across the bed, letting his hand slide over where Dean had been, savoring the warmth that was still there. He swallowed hard and slowly sat up, looking around his old room for the first time in four years. 

It was still the same, just as he left it. His books were still on the desk and he was sure if he tried to remember, they were probably still in the same position they had been in the night he had left. Even the small mess of papers he had left were the same, pens and pencils were tossed around. 

He continued to look around, seeing the bits and pieces that he had left behind. His desktop computer was still there and he was sure that if he turned it on the same page he had been looking at would come up. 

He was sure that if he opened his closets he’d find all his clothes still there, he couldn’t fit into them anymore but he knew they’d be in there. Every suit, every shoe, every pair of pants, everything that he hadn’t taken.

They hadn’t changed a single thing, hadn’t thrown out everything in a fit of anger, had even taken care of keeping his room clean and laundried. 

He bowed his head, feeling the tears start to gather in his eyes once more for a different reason. 

He knew that the house was big enough that they didn’t have to have anything to do with his room, could’ve just locked it up and pretended that it wasn’t there. But they didn’t, they kept it the same as he left and cleaned so that if, when, he’d come home, he’ll still have his room, he’d still have his family.

Dean came back into his room then, carefully holding a tray that had plates and a few cups of what he hoped was coffee. He put the tray on the nightstand and got back into the bed, reaching to put everything on his lap. He handed Sam one cup and took the other, drinking from it. 

Sam moved so that he could press into Dean's side, moving himself down enough so that he could place his head on Dean's shoulder as he slowly drank, closing his eyes at the taste. It was sweetened and had almond milk, something that no one else in his family drank. 

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders, holding him close as they slowly ate breakfast together, avocado and egg whites on whole wheat toast for him and a simple eggs, bacon, and sausage on toast for Dean. 

He wasn’t even sure if it was breakfast time or if that was just what was done or Dean had gotten done for them, but he appreciated it all the same. 

“Mom and dad would like to talk to you.” Dean told him once they were done eating and were just sipping their respective coffees in silence for a few moments. “Think you’re ready to?”

Sam closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Not really.” he managed to get out in a whisper. 

“Yeah, figured not.” Dean said, rubbing Sam's arm as best as he could. “But they want to start something to figure out what had happened, and to do that…”

“They need to talk to me. Cause I was there.” Sam finished for him. “Can...I just wanna finish my coffee.”

“Yeah, of course you can.” Dean said, pulling Sam closer to him. “Take your time Sammy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 113/366
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam lingered as long as he could, taking small sips of his coffee to try to drag out how long he could remain in bed. Afterwards he took his time in the bathroom, getting himself ready and presentable, as much as he could.

When he dragged a hairbrush through his hair for a third time, looking himself over in his reflection again, he knew that he had delayed it for long enough.

He still washed his hands again, just to get those extra few seconds.

Coming out of the bathroom Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed waiting, he had gone and quickly washed himself up as well, changing into a simple outfit. He gestured with his chin at the small pile of clothes that hadn't been there when Sam had gone to the bathroom.

"Guys got some things for you, seeing as you don't fit into your old stuff anymore." Dean told him, shooting him a half appreciative look as he looked his brother over.

Sam didn't bother to leave the room or even turn around, Dean had seen him naked countless times and despite the possibilities of any changes, he wasn't embarrassed in the slightest of being close to naked around him.

The clothes fit perfectly, as if they had been fitted to him personally. They were simple, a pair of pants and a shirt, but immediately vastly different from anything that he's worn in the last four years. Just from the quality and cut alone, simple clothes and yet, they said everything that needed to be said.

Taking a deep breath, and another moment to pretend to straighten out his clothes, he finally nodded at his brother who stood up and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading towards their mothers office.

The house hadn't changed that much he realized as they walked past. A few new pieces of furniture or artwork, including one that he had seen in the news that had gotten stolen, but otherwise nothing else had changed. There was still the statue that he and Dean had climbed up as children. The staircase that they had slid down on a mattress. They passed the library that he had spent hours holed up in reading and from a simple glimpse he could see that his favorite couch was still there, despite being worn out from his shoes and books from laying there for hours.

His chest tightened and he felt the tears gather in his eyes. He tried discreetly to wipe away at them, unsure if he was successful or Dean was just being nice to him by ignoring it.

Finally, they reached their mothers office, flanked by guards on either side of the door. As they approached it one of them opened the door for them, closing it behind them softly.

And there they were, their parents. Mary, sitting at her desk on the phone with papers in front of her and what seemed to be the latest model of the laptop right next to it. Her eyes lit up when they entered and she smiled at them, still speaking to whoever was on the other line.

John had been at the window, staring out, turning to face them when they came in. He smiled warmly at the both of them, walking around the desk to wrap his arms around them each in turn. Sam clung to him as he did, closing his eyes and feeling like a child once again, wanting to be a child and have his dad be his hero with hands strong enough to crush a mans skull and gentle enough to tenderly wipe away his tears when he had hurt himself playing where he wasn't supposed to.

"Your mother is on the phone with a few contacts in Palo Alto." John told them softly, not wanting to disrupt Mary's call. "Benny is out there as well. Sammy, you feel up to talking about it?"

He didn't really have a choice in that department, he had to talk about not just what had happened but all four years. Something like this, a fire so meticulously planned and performed wasn't a spur of the moment, wasn't a few months worth of planning. This took precision, effort, and patience, this took years to plan out and set out to such a degree that there was only one causality.

With no coincidence about who had survived.

So that meant, he was going to have to start at the very beginning, from the moment he had left to last night. Every single person that he knew was a suspect, every single person he had interacted even once needed to be looked into. Every action he made, every dollar he had spent, every person he flirted with, had worked in a group project with, down to the simplest part of simply being in his vicinity.

He nodded in lieu of speaking, John led the both of them to the couch so that they could sit comfortably together. Once they were Dean reached out and took his hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly as they waited for their mom to finish her call. John moved back to stand beside her, always beside her because that was his role. He was her guard in every single way, if need be to use his own body as a shield to protect her, and he had multiple times in the past. There had been attempts on Mary's life that were only prevented when John would take the bullet or knife or whatever was being used.

It infuriated Mary to no end but that was his job, his duty. To protect Mary Campbell from anything and everything.

Sam stared at their parents, thankful at least that if there had been any changes, they weren't that noticeable during his absence. He leaned back into the couch, halfway to leaning into Dean, as they just watched them quietly, waiting for his time to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 160/366
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural. 
> 
> 71/366
> 
> I do take requests so if you have requests you can send them to me.


End file.
